


A Chopped Off Arm

by gremlins-came-and-got-me (Scared_Beings_in_the_Dark)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hates being poisoned, Derek and Stiles are (almost) the same age, Halloween, Haunted House, Jennifer Blake is Bad News, Kate Argent is Bad News, Kate and Jennifer are in Cahoots, Laura is an Alpha, M/M, Stiles likes Haunted Houses, meet cute (sort of), vomit warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-16 20:57:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21277631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scared_Beings_in_the_Dark/pseuds/gremlins-came-and-got-me
Summary: Stiles drags Scott to the haunted house out in the preserve because last year, a total stranger asked him to cut off his arm while he was going through it. And while that was startling, Stiles couldn’t help but notice how cute he was in spite of looking like death's close cousin, so he has returned—not to dismember him but to get his number. Too bad the stranger has other plans. In other news, someone has poisoned Derek. Again.





	A Chopped Off Arm

~ * ~

Scott seems unimpressed. He’s gotten a lot less like Stiles&Scott and more like Scott-the-asshole lately. Stiles puts it down to Melissa switching out the Axe body spray for a more mature shampoo. And for Scott thinking that suddenly not smelling like the inside of a deodorant can made him hot shit with all the ladies (and the gents that liked forest-y assholes).

“Come on,” he insists when Scott spends too much time sighing at the stacked hay bales and not enough appreciation for the tattered scarecrow that swivels its pumpkin head when they walk by. “It’ll be great. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, sure.” Scott kicks at a rock, sending it skittering past a werewolf guarding the pathway to the gift shop.

If Stiles didn’t know better, he’d say that wasn’t a costume. Those red eyes and sharp fangs are just a little too realistic looking.

Halloween is great!

Except for the part where Scott wants nothing to do with it because he’s boring now and doesn’t like the same things as he did six months ago. When Stiles had suggested dressing up to come here, Scott had rolled his eyes and said no.

Stiles hadn’t been deterred and had slapped on a wizard’s cloak complete with gnarled staff.

“Why are you dressed as Little Red Riding Hood again?” Scott asks when they pay the quiet hulk of a man dressed in a skeleton onesie for their tickets.

“Dude, I’m not Little Red,” Stiles protests. So the costume store had been out of actual wizard cloaks, but this one was just as good. “Anyway. Why aren’t you dressed up? I thought we agreed.”

“We agreed to nothing,” Scott yawns, “not even this snooze fest.”

The werewolf from before returns suddenly, growling at Scott before sniffing loudly at Stiles and then loping off again.

“What was that?” Scott asks, with only slightly more interest.

“Part and parcel of the experience, buddy,” Stiles tells him excitedly. They’re about seven people from the entrance to the house. He can’t wait to see what they’ve come up with this year. There’s always the usual fair: the hospital wing with the mannequins begging for help and the pseudo doctor who chases people with a bone saw.

Last year, Stiles had had one of the actors lurch awfully close to him, vomit something viscous and black onto his shoes, and ask him to chop off an arm. Stiles was almost traumatized except a killer clown had hustled him forward and when he glanced back, the actor had been secreted away.

Stiles hadn’t seen that actor before or since, not for lack of trying. Despite the weird colors of the house and the fact that he’d seemed really pale and sickly, he’d been attractive enough, and Stiles wasn’t above trying to ask him out—when he was off work of course. Almost nothing shittier than trying to hit on someone who wasn’t allowed to say no to a customer.

The whole reason for dragging Scott along this year was four eyes were better than two, and he could enlist Scott to help him.

“Look, man, here’s the real reason you’re here,” he says. Four people from the entrance. Not much time. “There was this guy last year…”

“Stop right there,” Scott says. “Is this another Lydia Martin situation?”

“Ah, no?” Stiles coughs. “Nope. Definitely not.”

Scott narrows his eyes at him. “Yes it is!” he accuses. “It totally is! What the hell, Stiles! We agreed that you’d stop pursuing unfairly attractive people who you have no shot with.” _And who were unnecessarily mean to you when they realized they could exploit your attraction_ went unspoken.

“We agreed to nothing,” Stiles parrots, snidely. Scott’s words hurt, even if he knows their truth. There’s a reason they don’t sit at the same table as Lydia Martin and her entourage even though, miraculously, not only does Scott smell good enough to be popular, but Stiles is jock-y enough to be considered fringe-popular. “Look, just keep an eye out for a guy, about my height, dark hair, light eyes, razor-kissed chin. Last time I saw him, his makeup made him look like he was dying.”

“Then how do you know he’s attractive?” Scott raises an eyebrow as if to say “Checkmate.” But Scott’s forgotten Stiles’ ability to fall in love with a potato as a brief glance.

“Because I just do.” Even if the actor turned out to be the most potato-y of the potato bunch, Stiles still wants his number because it’s not every day that he’s asked to chop off arms of sickly looking people. It could be love at first sight. Scott doesn’t know anything.

“Whatever.”

Now they’re at the front of the line and the costumed actor letting them in is a ghoulish lady Stiles is positive they go to high school with. Most of the other actors either go to private school or belong to the home school court. Stiles doesn’t know which group his actor hails from, but he will find out. Eventually.

The ghoul warns them not touch the haunters and to have a good time and to remember to stop by the gift shop for some fresh pumpkin treats.

“Do you do that?” Scott asks as they step through the heavy curtain.

“Do what? Go to the gift shop? Yeah, every year.”

“And are their pumpkin treats…to die for?”

Stiles doesn’t bother answering. They’re already at their first scare anyway. While it is definitely scary and the screams echoing around them confirm that, Stiles finds he can’t focus with his brain wired to look for last year’s star actor.

Scott rolls his eyes at him and gamely drags him on even as Stiles tries to dig behind some of the jump scares.

They’re nearly to the end when he hears a whimper and then vomiting. It reminds him very strongly of last year, and he stops dead in his tracks to listen. Scott opens his mouth to speak, but when Stiles shakes his head, he closes it.

More whimpers and more vomiting. Less splashing, like the person upchucking is running out of contents to expel.

The werewolf from outside passes by, pressing so close to Stiles that his cloak flutters in her wake.

A gruff voice whines, some unintelligible word.

“For fuck’s sake, Derek,” presumably the werewolf snaps. “This is the second year you managed to be poisoned. What am I supposed to do with you?”

“Let me find a corner to die in,” the gruff voice responds. “Please, can I stop helping you now?”

“Let’s get you to the medical tent. What was it this year? Aconite?”

“Mistletoe,” Derek replies, grunting as the werewolf does something. Scott pulls Stiles back just as she reemerges from around a corner, the actor from last year dangling in her grasp. He looks even worse than last year—paler with high spots of color on his cheeks, eyes glassy with tears or fever. He also whimpers right before pitching forward to spew frothy bile mixed with white berries onto Stiles’ shoes.

“Let me,” Stiles says, hands hovering, the warning from the ghoul echoing in his ears. He throws his caution out though, and grabs Derek’s shoulders, lifting him until he can sling an arm over his shoulder. Scott takes the other side and together they follow the werewolf as she leads them out into the night. Immediately, the skeleton from the ticket booth and the scarecrow from the entrance take over, carrying Derek between them as if he weighs as much as a standard pumpkin while Scott and Stiles had been bowed under his weight.

“Hey, he’s going to be okay, right?” Stiles asks the werewolf before she can bound after them. She turns to him, her eyes blazing red, and he swallows hard, thinking that they really don’t look like contacts.

“I hope so,” she says, and then runs to catch up to the trio.

“So, now what?” Scott asks. “I’m guessing that was him.”

“Yeah.” Stiles can’t focus. His brain is still with the werewolf and Derek.

“Should we go to the gift shop?”

“Yeah, sure. Yeah.” Stiles takes one step forward and then turns back to the haunted house. “We need a sample of his vomit.”

“Dude, gross! Why? Also, there’s some on your shoes.”

At Scott’s words, Stiles glances down. Indeed, there is still yellow bile and a tiny white berry, mistletoe, stuck to his sneakers.

Gross for sure, but fortuitous as well.

“What are you going to do with that?” Scott asks.

“You heard the werewolf: this is the second time someone’s poisoned Derek. If we can take this sample to my dad, we can prove it. Also, we’re witnesses.”

“Don’t think we are.”

“We’re people with information. My dad will definitely want to talk to us.”

“Great. Can we at least stop at the gift shop while we call your dad?”

“Yeah. Sure. That should be fine.”

Stiles dials his dad’s number while they walk, and when Dad answers, he outlines briefly what they know. Dad sighs and promises to send someone out there.

“You boys stay safe, okay? I know the Hales, and while they’re good people, they have a lot of enemies. Don’t get caught up in something you could get hurt from.”

Stiles hangs up before his dad does something stupid like making him promise to leave. Right now, he needs to find Derek and see if he’s okay. And also give him his number so that they can reconnect when Derek’s feeling better.

_If_ he feels better.

_When_ he feels better.

At the gift shop, a brunette woman is running the counter. Last year, it was a blonde. The year before that, it was one of the other actors, like the scarecrow or something. There’s a high turnover rate in the gift shop.

The woman gamely hands over a plastic bag when Stiles asks for one, which he seals the mistletoe berry in. She smiles sweetly at Scott when he steps up to order a slice of pumpkin pie, extra whipped cream. As soon as Scott turns back to Stiles, already cramming, like, half of his pumpkin pie into his mouth, her face drops into a mask of cold fury. Stiles looks behind them to see what caused it, but instead all he sees is one of the killer clowns entering the shop.

“Jennifer, my sister needs you. I’ve got this.”

The clerk takes off her apron, handing it to the clown. “What’s wrong with Laura?” she asks, a little too innocently for Stiles’ liking. The clown must think so too, because she grunts and rolls her shoulders instead of answering.

Jennifer disappears out the door, and the clown tosses the apron over the counter. “We’re closed,” she snaps at them.

“What’s going on?” Stiles asks. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

The clown inhales deeply, almost like she’s sniffing them, like the werewolf did earlier. “Nope,” she says. “You’re human. If you get hurt, it’ll be our necks and not your fault.”

“Wait, human?” Stiles blocks her path, although, when she stares him down, he gets the distinct feeling that she’s letting him stop her. “Are you not human?”

Then her eyes fucking change color from brown to yellow and she leaps over him. Definitely not contacts.

“Stiles, what did she mean about being human? How was she able to do that? What was with her eyes?”

“Why do you think I know anything about what’s going on?”

“Because you came here last year!”

“This didn’t happen last year!”

“But you met Derek last year, didn’t you?”

“Sort of. I mean, he kinda stumbled into me and asked me to cut off his arm. Also, he threw up on me last year too.”

“So all your interactions with Derek Hale are gross.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Stiles files away Derek’s full name for later. Right now, they need to follow the killer clown to find the werewolf—Laura—and Derek.

Also, it’d be nice to figure out what’s up with Jennifer. Stiles would bet money, not his own, mind, on the fact that she was the one to poison Derek. Probably last year too. Or maybe the blonde gift shop clerk from last year.

“Come on, let’s catch up to the action.” Stiles makes for the door, but Scott grabs his cape.

“Fuck no, Stiles. Your dad should have told you to find somewhere safe to hole up. You are not dragging me into danger. If you do, I’ll never speak to you again.”

“That’s an empty threat, Scott. You’ve been using that same threat since kindergarten. And yet here you are, still talking to me.”

Scott grumbles, but he does follow when Stiles heads out.

It doesn’t take much to find the Hales and Jennifer it turns out. Stiles’ dad, Sheriff Stilinski, didn’t just send a deputy; he sent the whole damn department.

Stiles runs right into Deputy Tara Graeme, and before she can open her mouth to scold him, he holds up the bag with the berry. “I have evidence.”

Graeme takes it from him. “Now stay behind this line,” she says, pointing at a line that exists only in thin air. Almost immediately, killer clown barrels into her and hits the next two deputies as well.

“Cora!” Werewolf yells, and Killer Clown subsides.

Stiles, using Cora’s distraction, sneaks past the downed deputies until he’s standing next to Laura and Derek. Scarecrow and Skeleton are still supporting Derek, and Dad has Jennifer in handcuffs.

“Why would you poison Derek Hale?” Dad is asking. Jennifer doesn’t answer.

Dad sighs. “Put her in a car and make sure you _Mirandize_ her. I don’t want her squirming free like that Argent last year.”

“What Argent?” Stiles stage whispers to Laura.

She glares at him. “Kate Argent assaulted my brother last year. And when he threatened to tell me, she shot him with an aconite bullet. He nearly died because of her, and she got her lawyers to claim that she was falsely arrested and charged, so now she’s free. We almost didn’t have the haunted house this year because we were afraid she’d come back. Derek told us we shouldn’t hide behind our fears, and now look where we are.”

“Stop talking,” Dad says. “Stiles is a civilian and not qualified to hear this. We will find if Jennifer Blake has any connection to Kate Argent.”

“What’s the cure for mistletoe?” Stiles asks Laura.

“Normally? Probably just time and lots of fluids, but I still want to take him to our family doctor. He’ll better know what to do.”

“Stiles,” Dad clamps a hand onto his shoulder pulling him away from the group, “that’s enough. Go give your statement to Deputy Graeme and then get out of here. Don’t bother the Hales again.”

“I’m not bothering them,” Stiles protests, but it falls on distracted ears and he’s pushed aside as Laura walks her brother to a sheriff’s car and stuffs him in the back seat.

Derek barely moves even when Laura body checks him so that she can squeeze in next to him.

“Sucks, buddy,” Scott tells him after they’ve given a truncated statement to Graeme. They’re heading back to where Stiles parked, and despite Scott’s genuine concern, Stiles doesn’t feel any better.

He really misread last year. God, what if Derek really had wanted him to chop off his arm? What would he have done if he’d realized Derek’s sincerity? Would he have done what was asked of him or would he have backed away? Would Derek have survived if his fate had been left to Stiles?

Too many questions.

Stiles shakes them off and floors it, tires spinning before catching and lurching them forward. Scott doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even eye Stiles critically, not that Stiles is looking at him to see if he does.

“I’m sorry tonight turned out so shitty,” Scott says when Stiles drops him off. “Maybe things will get better?”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

Things might get better for Stiles, but will they get better for Derek too?

What’s it like to be targeted like that? To be hunted where he works, where he lives?

Stiles can’t imagine.

He doesn’t know how he makes it back to his house unscathed, distracted as he is, but he does.

Then he spends the rest of the night until he falls asleep around 3:00 am wondering what he can do to help the Hales in general and Derek in particular.

~ * ~

The next morning dawns bright. Stiles blinks at the sunlight falling across his face.

Rude.

He turns over, sighing as he goes, eyes half-closed again. The shadows on his bed shift, and Stiles startles awake, sitting up, reaching for the bat he keeps under his bed.

“It’s just me,” the shadow rasps. Derek Hale scoots forward until the sunlight illuminates his face.

“What are you doing here?” Stiles demands. He pulls the bat up anyway, to show Derek that he’s not afraid even though his heart is still trying to escape his chest.

Derek eyes him with what looks like concern even though he himself appears to be on death’s doorstep and knocking quite clearly. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he says.

“Why are you here and how did you get in?”

“I climbed in your window. You left it open.”

“Okay,” Stiles says. “Creeper. Noted. Now, why are you here?”

Derek drops his gaze to the bed sheets, and Stiles is reminded that he was supposed to wash them this past weekend. Derek doesn’t seem to mind, studying a stain that Stiles desperately hopes isn’t dried cum. “I wanted to thank you for last night.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

Derek finally looks at him. “Yes you did. You called the Sheriff’s Department. If you hadn’t done that, Jennifer might have gotten away with what she did to me. After what happened with Kate, I didn’t want to report it. I just wanted to find a bit of safety before I died.”

“Why did she poison you?”

“I think because she was working for Kate. She was new this year. She shouldn’t have tried anything. We didn’t even work the same booth.”

“Yeah, by the way, where do you usually work? I mean, I go every year, but this year and last are the only times I’ve ever seen you.”

“I’m usually behind the scenes. Scaring people is…not my thing.”

“And yet here we are,” Stiles finds himself saying. Derek ducks his head, blushing.

“I’m sorry about that,” he apologizes. “I really didn’t mean to scare you.” His eyes, some iridescent mix of greens, blues, and browns turn yellow. Somehow, it surprises Stiles even though he knows it shouldn’t.

“So, you’re a werewolf too,” he remarks as calmly as he can. “Is that why Kate Argent tried to kill you?”

Derek rolls his shoulders. “Probably. You see, I don’t have the control that my sisters do. They can shift and not give in to the instincts always inside us. It’s easier for me to stay out of sight on the nights that we have to run the haunted house. This was the first year that I felt comfortable enough to actually work. I was going to relieve Jennifer at the gift shop, and she gave me a brownie.” He blushes again. “I guess she knew I have a sweet tooth.”

“Hey.” Stiles sits up so that he can lift Derek’s head and meet his eyes. “This was not your fault. Jennifer’s a cold-hearted bitch with issues of her own. You didn’t do anything to make her target you.” He waits until Derek nods before he lets him go. “Now, you mind telling me what you’re doing in my room?”

Derek mumbles something under his breath, and Stiles leans closer. “What was that?”

Louder, Derek repeats it, and Stiles sits back, a little stunned. “You like the way I smell?” he asks. “You think I smell like safety and home?”

Derek nods. He twists his hands in his shirt. “I’m sorry. I’ll go now.”

“Don’t you dare,” Stiles says, scrambling off the bed for his phone. “You’re not leaving until I give you my number. Dude, I think you’re really pretty. You like the way I smell. We can work with this.”

He snaps his fingers at Derek until, with an amused if slightly fearful smile, Derek digs out his cell phone and lets Stiles program his number into it. Before Derek takes it back, Stiles sends himself a text.

“Cool. Now that that’s taken care of, where should we go for our first date?” He eyes Derek critically. “You were cleared medically, right?”

Derek doesn’t look any better than he did five minutes ago. Stiles thinks, if he really wanted to, he could knock him over with a strong breath.

“Yeah. Deaton let me go earlier this morning. Date? You want to go on a date? With me? You think I’m pretty?”

Stiles sinks into his desk chair, spinning around. “Yeah,” he says, trepidation creeping up his sternum, squeezing his lungs affectionately before settling in his throat. “Yeah,” he says, stronger. “I do. Don’t you?”

“With you?” Derek lifts his eyes. Mostly green with some blue. Human. In control. Not that he wasn’t in control when he had his eyes…shifted, despite his words earlier. A smile turns up his lips. “Yeah. I’d like that a lot.”

“So,” Stiles says, “I know this great diner downtown. Wanna try it with me?”

“No poisons?” Derek asks.

Stiles thinks he’s joking, but he can hear the undercurrent of fear in his words. “Definitely,” he promises. “No poisons. Just burgers and milkshakes.”

“Cool. When did you wanna go?”

“Well, it is Saturday. I’ve got all day. Wanna give me some time to shower and change and then we’ll go? Say, in an hour?”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll meet you out in front of your house?”

Stiles confirms, and Derek crawls off the bed. He heads for the window. “Hey now. Why not use the front door like a regular person?”

Derek frowns at him. “Because I look like I’m twenty-five years old even though I’m sixteen?”

“I look like I’m thirteen even though I’m seventeen. Just use the front door. My dad won’t care. He’s probably still at work anyway.”

Derek moves past Stiles, heading for the stairs, when impulse takes over, and Stiles reaches for him. He waits for Derek to nod before he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

“Isn’t it a little soon?”

Stiles shrugs. “Probably. But, something you should know about me: I don’t do anything in halves. If we’re dating, I want to kiss you. Got a problem with that?” He doesn’t mean to sound so defensive, but luckily Derek just smiles at him.

“I think I’d like that,” he says softly, leaning forward so that all Stiles has to do is meet him halfway to press their lips together.

Derek’s are chapped, presumably from throwing up mistletoe all night. Stiles’ aren’t any softer, but he finds that he doesn’t mind at all. Maybe because it’s Derek.

He’s been fantasizing about him all year. The reality is so much better.

“Wanna shower with me?” Bold, but nothing to lose.

“How about you do that alone?” Dad says from behind them. Derek jumps back so fast that he nearly cracks his head against the wall.

“Dad.” Stiles doesn’t bat an eye. He’s dying inside, ashamed at being caught, but not about asking. His dad gives Stiles the same impassive stare he always gives him when he catches him misbehaving.

“Derek, nice to see you again. The front door is just downstairs.”

“Yes sir.” Derek sidles past them, all but running down the stairs and out the door. Dad watches him go.

At least Stiles got his number before he disappeared.

“It wasn’t like that,” Stiles says.

“Uh-huh. Go take a shower. Alone.”

“Whatever. I’ve got a date with Derek Hale later.”

“Whatever you do, don’t corrupt that boy. He’s gone through a lot these past few years.”

Someday, Stiles vows to get the whole story, but in the mean time, he needs to take a shower so he can go on a date. Whatever Derek needs, he can have. Dad won’t have to worry about Stiles corrupting Derek. Instead he’ll have to worry about finding Kate Argent’s body. And Jennifer’s too if she manages to wriggle out of her charges.

“I promise,” Stiles says. And means it. If Derek feels safe with him, then by god, he’ll be safe with him.

Yeah. Definitely. Even though Derek is a werewolf and can probably take care of himself—Stiles will have to research what all that entails—he won’t have to as long as he has Stiles.

“Promise,” he repeats.

~ The End ~

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to all who read this. Please let me know if I've forgotten to warn or tag something.
> 
> Additionally, I am going to be doing a series on [my Tumblr](https://1989dreamer.tumblr.com) of prompts/plot bunnies I've had for _Teen Wolf_ over the years. They'll all be available to use for creating. I'll also link to the stories that I have written from some of these prompts. Check it out if you're interested.


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